by Sarah Curtis
She cut him off by holding up a hand and laughing. "I don't want to know about the illegal ones."
Nico pulled out his phone and sent a text, then took her hand again while they walked out of the hotel and back to the restaurant. He led her around to the parking lot just as Marco pulled up in the town car. Nico followed her into the back of the car, sitting close and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Between the alcohol and the lateness, she found herself drowsy and rested her head against his chest. "Thank you," she murmured into the folds of his shirt.
He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "For?"
She sighed closing her eyes. There were so many things she could thank him for. Saving her mom. Protecting her from Carmine. Making love to her when she knew good and well he could have used her roughly and there would have been nothing she could have done about it. Showing her an evening she'd always remember. She wasn't sure how to express all that, so only said, "Just, thank you."
Chapter Fourteen
By the time Marco pulled the car up to the front of the house, Olivia was snuggled into Nico's chest, her arm wrapped around his waist, sound asleep. Nico reached over, pulled on the car door handle, then kicked it open wider with his foot. He gently maneuvered Olivia into his lap, cradling her in his arms as he slowly and carefully got out of the car. She hadn't moved a muscle.
Marco had opened the front door, so Nico's path was clear all the way to his bedroom. Scratch that, their bedroom. He'd had Maria transfer Olivia's things to his room while they'd been gone.
Speaking of which, Maria materialized at the top of the stairs. "Will you be needing any assistance, Mr. Conti?"
"No, Maria. Go to bed. I've got this."
She tipped her head before taking her leave down the hall and disappearing up the stairs.
Nico placed Olivia on the bed and removed her shoes before going into the closet to change out of his suit, slip on a pair of sweats, and grab a t-shirt for Olivia. By the time he returned, she'd rolled onto her side, hands fisted under her chin, and legs curled up to her chest. He sat on the side of the bed, his finger tracing a line down her arm. He didn't want to wake her, but she couldn't sleep in the gown. Rhinestones digging into her skin sounded anything but comfortable.
She did look beautiful in the gown, though. When she'd come walking down the stairs earlier that afternoon, just like when he'd first seen her in it, he'd wanted to fuck her. Only the thought of needing them married that day had kept his hands off her.
And now, hours later, she was his wife.
He looked down at her sleeping form. Her long black lashes painting a crescent on her cheeks. Her slightly parted lips. The even rise and fall of her chest. Something in his heart squeezed, and for a second, he thought he was having a fucking heart attack. But he soon realized it was Olivia and the responsibility he now felt for her when he'd never given two shits about anyone before. Sure, he loved his family and cared about the well-being of his friends, but it wasn't the same thing. Olivia was his to protect—she belonged to him—and he'd be damn sure nothing ever harmed her, or die trying.
He slid the zipper down her back then worked one of her arms out of the sleeve. She moaned, rolling, her eyes blinking open. He helped her to sit up. "Let's get you out of this dress and into something more comfortable to sleep in."
She looked around, clearly disoriented before nodding and slipping her other arm from the sleeve. The bodice pooled around her waist and she unsteadily got to her feet, the dress falling down her legs to puddle on the floor.
He'd had every intention of draping her in his shirt, but with her standing in front of him, every intention, good or otherwise, flew from his head. All he could see were her tits, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to suck on them.
"Come here," he said, spreading his legs so she could step between them. He grabbed her hips as soon as she came near. Her hands landed on his shoulders, and he pulled her even closer. He took what he wanted, his mouth feasting at her breast. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he softly bit, rolling her nipple between his teeth.
Her fingers dug into his bare shoulders, encouraging him to suck harder. But soon that wasn't enough. He wanted more. His fingers curled under the flimsy bands of elastic at her hips, and after an effortless snap, he tossed her ruined panties to the floor.
He'd gotten to know her body well over the past week. Knew what she liked and used it to his advantage. He slid his hands to her ass so he could maneuver her closer and put his lips on her stomach. Trailing kisses to her hip bone, he felt her stomach muscles fluttering under his touch. He dragged his hands down the backs of her legs, his fingers finding the soft skin of her inner thighs, slowly caressing up to the heat of her pussy.
Pushing her back a step, he got to his knees in front of her. His teeth nipped at her hipbone, and his tongue flicked out to taste and tease at a spot he knew drove her wild. As if to confirm that, her fingers dove into his hair, pulling his head impossibly closer.
His fingers found her heat and spread her lips, skimming through her slick folds. His lips traveled lower, over the small patch of feather-soft curls to the tiny nub he knew would send her over the edge.
Her legs shook as his mouth claimed her clit, his hands at her thighs and hers in his hair, her only support. He felt the tug at his scalp and growled even as he sucked harder, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
She was panting now, pressing her pussy into his face, making his cock so fucking hard it was almost a distraction from what he was doing. That he couldn't have, he was enjoying it too much.
With a groan, he grabbed her wrists, prying her hands from his hair as he sat on the bed, lying back. "Come straddle my face, baby. I need a free hand for my cock, you're driving me insane."
She climbed on the bed but didn't do as he ordered. Instead, she surprised him by turning her ass toward his face while her mouth went for his cock. She'd grown a bit more adventurous as their time together progressed. He'd taught her how he liked his dick sucked, and she'd picked it up pretty quickly. What she lacked in skill, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.
She pushed down his waistband, freeing his erection.
The feel of her wet mouth sliding over his length, taking him in impossibly deep, made him catch his breath. "Fuck. You're gonna kill me."
He heard and felt her giggle, the vibrations going straight to his balls, and he knew right then he would never get enough of her. Palming her inner thighs, he spread her legs wider before planting his hands on her hips and drawing her pussy down to his mouth. That's when she moaned, and he didn't just feel it in his balls, he felt it through his whole fucking body.
His hands directed her hips as he worked at her clit but once his tongue speared her opening, she soon took over her movements, fucking herself on his tongue. She was close, he could tell because she lost coordination. Her hand at the base of his dick no longer moved, just squeezed, and her mouth no longer sucked, just hovered over his tip, covering it in her hot breath. A carefully placed thumb was all it took to have her spiraling over the edge.
He lifted her hips and smacked her ass before helping her rotate around. He wanted inside her. Now. "Don't move."
She was on her hands and knees at the edge of the bed. He got up and stood behind her. Yanking off his sweats, he grasped her hips and slid himself home, deep inside the best fucking pussy he'd ever had.
He knew he had his work cut out for him. It always took her a while to get off a second time. The extra work was not a hardship. He leaned over her, one hand reaching around her, his fingers finding and plucking at her nipple, while the other moved from her hip so he could play with her clit. With no room or leverage to piston in and out, he ground
his pelvis against her ass, rotating his hips. It was the sweetest fucking torture.
Soon her ass started wiggling, and he took that as his cue. Standing back up, he grabbed her hips, withdrew and then slammed back in. Over and over. Sweat trailed down his spine into the crack of his ass and still, he kept going. Olivia's arms gave out, splayed wide across the bed, head turned, cheek to the comforter to breathe. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were parted while she panted out little moans.
So fucking beautiful.
And then she shattered. He saw it on her face and felt it on his cock as her pussy spasmed around him. As if set free, his orgasm hit, and he exploded inside her.
Nico played with Olivia's soft curls, running the long strands of her hair through his fingers. It hadn't taken her long to fall back to sleep after he'd tucked her under the covers and secured her at his side.
It had been a long and stressful day for her. He knew he'd rushed the wedding, but she'd surprised him by agreeing to it so readily. Not that he was complaining, he'd just expected more of a fight. He smiled to himself when he realized he was a little disappointed he hadn't had to use any of the arguments he'd prepared in defense to her objections. Few people surprised him, but his new bride was full of them. He liked that he didn't know what to expect from her next.
He listened to her even breaths, the gentle rhythm strangely soothing, and he felt his lids grow heavy. He'd never spent the night with a woman, and Olivia had been no exception. He'd always left her bed after they'd had sex and returned to his own. With as nice as it felt having her tucked beside him, and the peacefulness she brought him, he was glad he'd decided to move her into the master suite. His lips tipped up as he felt himself drifting, wondering if she was the elusive drug he'd been searching for.
The miracle cure to help him sleep.
Chapter Fifteen
Nico leaned back on the couch, seemingly relaxed, yet in truth, he was anything but. The large, elegantly decorated office was the last place he wanted to be, but no one ignored a direct order from Vincenzo Conti, not even Nico.
The door opened, and Nico sat up from his slouch, firmly planting both feet on the floor as he watched his father take a seat in an overstuffed, leather chair behind his desk. His father was still an imposing figure even in his late sixties. Though a naturally big guy, he kept in shape, and although his hair was mostly gray, it didn't distract from his distinguished good looks.
His father took an exaggeratedly long time settling into his chair, all the while, spearing Nico with a death glare, willing him to crack under the pressure of it. It was an old trick he'd grown immune to over the years. No way, would he start a conversation that could ultimately end with one of them storming out of the room in anger. Yes, Vincenzo Conti held most of the power in the family, but Nico was, and always would be, his own man.
After five minutes that felt like an eternity, his father finally spoke. "Please tell me the rumors I've heard aren't true." At Nico's silence, he sighed. "Well at least tell me she's Italian." At Nico's continued silence, he cursed. "What's her name?"
"Mrs. Nicoló Conti."
"God, damn it, Nico, this isn't a joke."
"I didn't realize I was laughing." In fact, Nico was pretty sure he was glaring.
His father was silent a few more minutes before he stated, "Rumor's also, she was Carmine's whore."
Nico felt his jaw tense as his teeth ground together, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Not all rumors are true." His voice came out low and raspy as he tried to contain his anger.
His father held up a hand. "I didn't say it was." He seemed to think for a minute. "This is going to cause... difficulties."
"Which I'll take care of."
Vincenzo nodded. "See to it that you do. War with the Vella family is not something I look forward to so close to retirement."
His father had been dangling the retirement carrot over Nico's head for the last ten years to keep him in line. That ploy had also lost its power a long time ago.
Nico got to his feet. "Are we done?" He had shit to do.
Vincenzo waved a hand. "Yeah."
Nico went for the door and had almost made his escape when he heard, "Oh, and Nico?" He stopped hand on the doorknob but didn't look back. "Your mother was very upset by the news. I'm sure, being a smart boy, you can figure out why. I expect you and Mrs. Conti here for dinner Friday night."
Nico hung his head. Playing the "hurt mother" card, they both knew his father had just won. Shaking his head and issuing a low chuckle, he looked over his shoulder with a small grin. "Olivia. Her name is Olivia, and we'll be here."
He saw his dad fighting a smile he couldn't quite suppress. "Good. We both look forward to meeting her."
Nico slipped into the passenger seat of the Lincoln and Marco took off down the drive. "That didn't take very long."
"Really? It felt like hours."
Marco chuckled. "Did he give you any sage advice?"
"On marriage or how to deal with Carmine?"
Marco shrugged. "Either."
Nico barked a laugh, but it didn't sound humorous even to his own ears. "No."
"Too bad." Marco gave him a quick smirk before turning his eyes back to the road.
They drove in silence a few minutes before he heard Marco's deep voice again. "Speaking of marriage."
Nico looked his direction and raised an eyebrow, but Marco's eyes remained forward, so he prompted, "Yeah?"
Marco was silent so long, Nico didn't think he was going to continue, but then he sighed. "You notice anything different about Olivia lately?"
Nico hadn't. He hadn't been home a lot over the past couple weeks, taking care of business, but when he was, she was doing the usual—visiting with her mom, swimming, or reading. And every night they fucked before she'd fall asleep in his arms. "Like?"
Marco shrugged again. "I don't know. She just seems..." He seemed to struggle for the right word. "Sad."
"And you observed her enough to know this?" His words came out sharper than he'd intended, but fuck, he didn't like the fact Marco cared enough to notice.
"Don't get your dick in a twist. Al said something to me a few days ago, and I'm just repeating it."
Slightly appeased, Nico questioned, "What exactly did he say?"
"Said she's been spending more time in her room or with her mom. Said she hasn't even left the house in the last three days."
"Not even to swim?"
Marco shook his head, and Nico swore under his breath.
They pulled up in front of one of his clubs and Nico got out of the car and made his way straight back to the office for some privacy. The manager, Eric, sat behind the desk, but with a nod from Nico, he was out the door, closing it behind him, leaving Nico alone in the room. He pulled out his phone and called Nikki, his PA at the only legitimate business he needed a secretary for.
She answered after the second ring. "Conti Industries, Nico Conti's office."
He skipped the small talk. "I need reservations at Bella for eight tonight."
"Yes, sir. For how many?"
"Two."
"Very good, sir. Anything else?"
"Fax the Harden property file to my home office. I'll be working there for the next few days."
Nico hung up then went in search of Marco. He wanted to get the meeting over with in time to take Olivia dress shopping before dinner.
* * * * *
Olivia's heart stuttered then picked up speed as she saw the bedroom door open and Nico walk in. It was unusual for her to see him during the day, yet there he was, walking toward her and her mother.
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They'd been having a visit, sitting on the couch, drinking tea in the sitting area of Nico's bedroom. Olivia had been thrilled that her mother felt well enough to get up and about. In fact, she'd noticed much improvement to her mom's health over the past couple of weeks. Her coloring was better with a slight rosy blush to her cheeks. Her energy had improved, and she and her mom spent more time out of her room now than in it. It seem the round the clock care and frequent doctor visits that Nico had obtained were doing a world of good. More good than the care she'd been able to supply her mom back home even with Carmine's help. She would be forever grateful to Nico for the added time he'd given her with her mom.
"Ladies." Nico inclined his head to them both.
Her mom set her tea cup on the coffee table before standing and straightening her robe.
Observing her actions Olivia said, "You don't need to leave, Mom."
"Nonsense. What newlywed couple wants their mom hanging around being a fifth wheel?" She leaned over giving Olivia a kiss on the forehead. "We'll have plenty of time for tea later."
Thankful she was able to agree with that statement, Olivia smiled up at her mom. "It's a date."
She watched as her mom made the slow trek across the room with the help of her nurse until they were out of sight behind the closed door.
"Speaking of dates."
Olivia turned at the sound of Nico's voice. He skirted the coffee table and took her mom's vacated spot on the couch.
"I'm here to take you dress shopping then out to dinner to celebrate our two-week anniversary."
"Oh." She wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't realized he'd been keeping track. "That's really not necessary. I know this isn't a real marriage." At his flared nostrils and hardening jaw, she backtracked, "I mean, um, this isn't a conventional marriage."
He leaned toward her, placing his hands on either side of her hips. His lips blazed a trail over her jaw. His voice—a deep, whisper-soft growl—filled her ear. "I've been neglectful."